


The Inquisition's Kittens (Or How Skyhold Got Its Cats)

by enigmalea



Series: Of Many Hearts [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Bad Puns, Cat Puns, Cause there's kittens, Fluff, Kittens, No like actual fluff, Okay... sorry, Other, Right?, no?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-11-21 06:16:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18138509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmalea/pseuds/enigmalea
Summary: Inspired by the "odd things" which Cole enacts in Skyhold, and the canon dialogue:Inquisitor:Someone stole an entire cheese wheel.Cole:Mice like cheese.Inquisitor:Do mice also like bowls of crushed mint?Cole:That was for the cats.Inquisitor:So, the cheese lures the mice, and the mice lure the cats, and the cats they smell the mint?Cole:The mint makes the cats dance and play.Inquisitor:Then the cook laughs at the cats instead of yelling at the scullery maids.Cole:Kitchen fires are hot, like when Haven burned. The old cook lies under rocks. His head is in pieces. She needs to make it all work, so nothing will burn again. But if she laughs, she forgets for a while.But where did the cats come from? This one-shot answers that question.NOTE: ONLY A MATURE RATING BECAUSE DORIAN IS A CHILD AND MAKES AN OFF-COLOR PUN.Also, there's a couple of lines of campfire sex talk, because... why not?➡️ This is a side-story to the Of Many Hearts series and is not an essential read. But it’s kinda fun, so why not?





	The Inquisition's Kittens (Or How Skyhold Got Its Cats)

**Author's Note:**

> This falls somewhere during the time of [Haven's Trouble](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17986586/chapters/42487358) after they first travel to the Hinterlands and ends with the escape from Haven. Just a short one-shot that wasn't worth bogging down the main plot but made me happy to headcanon, because... KITTENS. 
> 
> You can probably read this one without reading the rest of the series, but you totally want to read the rest of the series.
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> * * *
> 
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>  **prompt me:** [how to](https://enigmalea.tumblr.com/post/185117840754) ☆ [submit](https://enigmalea.tumblr.com/ask) ☆ [read on tumblr](https://enigmalea.tumblr.com/tagged/my-drabbles) ☆ [read on ao3](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19825843)
> 
>  **join me @:** [The Hanged Man Discord](https://discord.gg/U4Y5uCR) for DA fanfic readers, writers, and betas! (Please note the server is NSFW and 18+ only.)

Aravas despises the Hinterlands. Or maybe, she simply despises being the Herald. Whatever it is, she's tired of a sore arse, mages, Templars, demons, and every third building being on fire and _no one_ doing anything about it. She's only been at this for a few days and she misses Deshanna's laugh, her father's cooking, the smell of the shared campfire, and even Ghimyean and Eirlana smiling fondly at one another.

There are _some_ upsides, though.

Scout Harding is adorable and cheery, and when she and Varric and Aravas start trading puns and making jokes, Aravas almost feels like she's with the hunters at home. She knew it was going to be like that from the moment Varric cracked his "Harding in Hightown" joke. Unbelievably, Cassandra and Solas sometimes join in, although never with the enthusiasm or stamina of the rest of them.

There's a lot of herbs nearby, and she can distract herself from the chaos by taking some time to clear her mind and gather some. The requisition's officer seems to like it, even if Varric and Harding have already started teasing her about having an elfroot obsession. She collected nothing but blood lotus for an entire day just to mess with them.

They killed some mages and Templars and cleared the Crossroads; Aravas didn't enjoy the memory of the first time she'd killed for something other than hunting (other than demons and those hardly counted). It was self-defense, yes, but it hadn't been easy. This was going to change her.

Mother Giselle had given her support and had returned to Haven because Aravas agreed to help the refugees, innocent people who had been caught in this war for no reason. What reason would she have had to say no?

The hunting was, by far, the easiest task to fulfill. There were still blankets to be found, mage and templar strongholds to clear, bandits to track down, and a healer to locate. Oh. And the guy whose wife needed the potion. But first, Cullen wanted them to track down new horses.

She'd had to ask the requisition officer (she really needed to find out the woman's name) for a notebook to take notes and keep track of everything. Varric had watched in fascination as she'd made a portable and easy to replace writing utensil out of the reed of blood lotus and charcoal from their campfire. It wasn't nearly as permanent as ink, but it was much easier to carry (and replace) while they were on the move.

He was watching her now as she looked from the notebook to the map the scouts had been slowly filling in and back again. Solas, too, was watching her with some warm familiarity that made her uncomfortable. Cassandra was watching for wolves.

"Everything okay, Herald?" Varric asked and Aravas couldn't stop herself from tensing a bit. He swore the nickname was temporary, but it was becoming a habit, and she was not amused.

"Just trying to decide the best course of action," she said with a yawn. She stood and stretched. "That Templar encampment that's harassing the refugees, I have a strong suspicion they're just past that broken bridge we found yesterday, up on that hill. There were some heavy footprints in the dirt leading up there."

"Yeah, I noticed," Varric agreed with a nod, "wasn't sure you did, though."

"So, we could head that way and clear them out. It's on the way to the farms where Cullen's horse master might be. Scouts have located a potential campsite for us in the area. Problem is, if we're setting up camp, we'll need the mounts and… I'm not sure I can take another day of riding. I can't feel my arse or my thighs."

"If someone had just been upfront about being an inexperienced rider, I wouldn't have pushed our pace nearly as hard," Cassandra spoke up from her lookout.

"Inexperienced? I'm not inexperienced," Aravas protested.

"A week riding with Cullen hardly counts as experienced," the dark-haired warrior scoffed.

"Better than a week riding Cullen," Varric retorted.

Cassandra sputtered in indignation and Solas seemed to choke on the jerky he'd been diligently chewing. Aravas playfully punched Varric's arm. "Careful, dwarf, you'll ruin their virgin sensibilities."

"I'm hardly a virgin," Solas protested with a roll of his eyes.

"Neither am I!"

"Maybe not," she conceded, "but when was the last time either of you had a roll in the hay?"

"Likely the last time you did," Solas deadpanned far too quickly for Aravas' liking. The sincerity and confidence of his tone and the implication it held caused Aravas to flush.

Cassandra cleared her throat as if to clear the tension from the air. "The fact is if I had known you were just learning to ride, we would have taken our time getting here."

"Yes, well, the delay could have cost lives and I wouldn't want that on my hands either," Aravas snapped.

"You could always take a potion," Varric suggested. "You are the one collecting the herbs, the least you could do is benefit from them."

She pressed her lips into a thin line and shook her head forcefully. "Not now. Not for something this minor. The herbs are needed by Inquisition scouts and soldiers, not to mention the refugees. They're intended for use when lives are in the balance, not because I'm unused to riding a horse. My pain will pass with time; a refugee whose terror inflicted wounds are leaking with infection will not heal with time and there is only so much healing magic can do."

"So, we are to attack the Templars to the west then?" Cassandra asked, her voice thin.

"They have no hesitation in attacking innocents," Solas spoke up.

"That's one option," Aravas said tersely, not wanting to hear the arguments between Cassandra and Solas yet again. If she didn't know better, she would almost think the pair of them enjoyed bickering like an old married couple. Oh. _Oh._ Maybe there was _tension_ between them. She blushed slightly and cleared her throat. "Or, we can head north. The scouts have marked an area where the apostates may be camped out. It's about halfway between here and Redcliffe - where the healer Corporal Vale asked for is."

"Well, we have all decided to defer to your judgment in these matters, Herald," Cassandra said with a shrug. "Perhaps you should sleep on it and let us know in the morning."

Aravas frowned but decided to take Cassandra's sound advice.

 

* * *

 

Morning came too soon and usually before the sun had fully risen. Aravas cracked her back as she stepped out of the tent, thankful she'd decided to avoid the mounts today. She'd decided to send a group of scouts with mounts ahead to the camp they'd located in the farms; they were taking a slightly longer route to avoid the Templars. Her team was going to proceed north to the suspected apostate hideout on foot. Once it was cleared out, they would regroup and head over to the farms. Though it meant they'd have to double back to head to Redcliffe, the horses would be the priority. Faster and better horses meant that _all_ of this could be completed much quicker.

She gave the orders to Lace, who seemed eager to be in charge of establishing another camp, and in just as the sun peeked over the horizon the Herald and her three companions began heading north, toward Redcliffe.

"I still don't see why we have to leave before it's even light out," Varric grumbled.

"Because, Varric, the earlier we leave, the sooner we get done and get to come back to camp," she explained.

" _If_ someone managed not to get distracted," he said, tone making it clear he was talking about Aravas. " _If_ someone doesn't decide to stop to pick every leaf of elfroot along the way even though she has people to do that for her now; _if_ she manages to not get sidetracked by 13 other goals along the way."

She rolled her eyes and playfully shoved the dwarf as he laughed at her half-hearted attempt to get him to stop making fun of her. She frowned as they entered the Crossroad, noticing that at some point, the cabins had been set on fire… again. She had to resist the urge to spend time putting them out. At this point, they were empty, and it would eventually burn itself out unharmed. Besides, if it got too out of control, Corporal Vale would handle it.

Still, she slowed as she passed the cabin, frowning a bit. The Crossroads were quiet at this time, only the sound of the crackling wood and the fire and the faint morning bird calls floated. Very softly, Aravas heard something else, a tiny high-pitched cry. Just one, and then another one answering. She stopped short, tilted her head a bit, and focused. Had she been imagining it? No. There it was again.

"Aravas?" Solas asked from behind her.

"Shh," she hissed, but she was glad he'd spoken up. Both Cassandra and Varric were ahead of them now and hadn't slowed down. The sound happened again, a pathetic, weak, cry of terror. "Fenedhis! Something's in there!"

The Seeker and the rogue turned back as she jumped up the foundation and tried to figure out if she could get into the cabin from the back. Even half-burned and with sections of the wall and roof caved in, she couldn't squeeze herself through. With a huff, she moved to the front door and tried to open it, kicking it in frustration when she found it was locked.

"Herald? What is it?" Cassandra called.

"There's someone or _something_ trapped in here," she threw her shoulder into the door, but it didn't budge, and Aravas had to appreciate the construction which had held up to several fires and now her assault.

"Don't hurt yourself; let me," Varric said, grumbling to himself about _crazy trouble-seeking_ _elf_ as he pulled out a lockpick set. It only took him a few seconds before he popped open the door, throwing it open with a flourish.

Aravas didn't hesitate to throw herself into the burning building, even as Solas cast a barrier over her. She should have thought better, but she hadn't. "Aravas! Be careful!" the mage called.

She heard the sound again, fainter now, and realized it must be coming from the back corner, where most of the roof had caved in. She coughed as she inhaled, smoke burning her eyes even with the barrier in place. The fire was too hot for her to try to freeze out, there was no way she could produce enough ice to put it out. Even Solas' blizzard wouldn't be enough.

She gathered her energy and used it to begin moving debris out of the way, gasping slightly as she caught a glimpse of something tiny and furry. The distressed little ginger creature wiggled out, let out a pitiful "mew" which was immediately answered by other, weaker "mews" from under the burning wood. Aravas scooped the kitten up, depositing it in her pack. "Cassandra! Get in here! I need your help!"

The warrior let out a grunt, even as Aravas felt Solas renew the barrier around both of them. Her eyes were drying up now, and they didn't have much time. "I need you to lift this," she said motioning to the largest beam. Cassandra made to protest, but Aravas cut her off with a shout. "THERE ARE KITTENS!"

Cassandra looked at her as if she were mad, but the warrior pulled up her gloves, and hoisted the beam up, letting out a strained near war cry as she did so. There were three more kittens and Aravas scooped them up eagerly, scrambling back so that Cassandra could drop the beam. The beam broke in half as it hit the ground, flames leaping up, and Cassandra began coughing deeply. With her free hand, Aravas grasped the warrior by her collar, more than aware that she was nearly cooking in her plate mail and shoved her out the front door. Now free and in the cool morning air, Aravas laid all four kittens out on the ground, frantically digging for her water skin and elfroot potion.

She diluted the elfroot potion into a bowl, and set it in front of them, touching them gently with healing magic as they began to lap at the mixture. She handed the rest of the bottle to Cassandra who wiped her forehead with a rag and drank deeply of the potion. Aravas wondered how bad the burns under her armor had been getting and how much of the burning wood she'd inhaled for her to feel like she needed to drink the entire thing.

 "Kittens?" Solas asked incredulously. "You risked both your life and Cassandra's life for… _kittens_."

Aravas looked at him as if he'd lost his mind to question her. "Of course, kittens! What was I supposed to let them do? Cook?!" The four kittens - one orange tabby, one grey tabby, and two identical black - huddled back together. They were covered in soot and grime and shaking from their ordeal.

"But… kittens," Varric protested meekly. The men seemed to be half-heartedly trying to tell her that her priorities were messed up, but no matter how much the protested, Aravas could tell by their quickly softening eyes, they thought she'd made the right choice.

 

* * *

 

No one mentioned the fact they'd spent an entire day at camp, nursing kittens back to health, making sure they were clean of soot and their burns were healing and they were eating and drinking. No one mentioned that actual very important business of quelling rebel mages and stopping Templar abuses and getting horses for the Inquisition had been put on hold.

"What do you want to do with them?" Cassandra asked her, as the orange tabby tried to climb up her front to her breasts and tumbled down in defeat.

"We… can we take them back to Haven?" Aravas asked softly as if she were afraid Cassandra might say no. She'd never had a pet - not a real one. The clan had a cat once which helped protect their stores, but it was poisoned when they'd been sold poisoned grain and a mouse it had caught had made a meal of that very grain. They'd never replaced it, but they probably should have. She reached out to pet one of the little black ones. Now that they were clean, they had realized, both of the black kittens had spots of white on their chests and stomach, and that was the only way to tell them apart.

"I don't see why not," Cassandra said. "We have stores which need protecting, and the Chantry had no mousers."

The other black cat had fallen asleep on Varric's lap, while the tabby was batting at Solas' necklace. "What are you going to name them?" the dwarf asked, and Aravas couldn't help but snort. Of course, Varric wanted input on names.

"I was thinking Dirthamen and Falon'Din for the black cats," Aravas suggested.

"Could we not?" Solas asked tersely, and Aravas raised an eyebrow at him.

"Do you have a problem with Elven gods, Solas?" Aravas asked.

Solas sighed deeply, exasperation written on his face. He pinched the bridge of his nose in contemplation before answering finally, "no, but perhaps the Chantry would take umbrage at the Herald of Andraste choosing to name her cats after deities in the Dalish pantheon… the very pantheon which triggered an Exalted March against your people."

She frowned and scruffled the black cat's ears. "Okay… point taken," Aravas replied. "What are your suggestions?"  
  


* * *

 

Isevher, Donnen, Faith, and Assan were well and spoiled by the time the Herald of Andraste and her party left the Hinterlands nearly a month after their heroic rescue. They had nearly doubled in size, and whether they would admit it or not, the party had gotten used to waking up to one or more of the kittens trying to squeeze into their bedroll with them throughout the night. The next trip they took (to Val Royeaux) was not nearly as mirthful without their tiny, fuzzy companions, but since they had made themselves invaluable to the Inquisition by keeping their stores vermin free, they'd had to stay behind in Haven. But when Corypheus descended on Haven shortly after a strange boy arrived declaring Corypheus was coming to kill them, the cats (still diligently working in the stores) were nearly forgotten.

"The little ones," the boy said, appearing before Cullen. Cullen blinked at him, confused at where he had come from. "Don't forget the little ones! She'll need them."

"The little… Maker's mercy! The kittens!" He doubled back on the stores, running past the fleeing townspeople, back toward the chantry. "Solas! Dorian!" he shouted as he passed the men, grabbing them by the arms. "The kittens! We've forgotten Aravas' kittens!"

"Fenedhis," Solas swore and he took off into a sprint, Dorian and Cullen quick on his heels. The storeroom was nearly empty, crates and barrels overturned in their haste. The men began a frantic search, tossing aside crates and looking into tipped over barrels, as the dragon roared in the distance again.

"Come on, come on, I'm not going to die searching for pussy!" Dorian exclaimed, and Solas couldn't help but let out a laugh. "This is ridiculous! We shouldn't be nearly dying for cats."

"Remind me to tell you how we conscripted the kittens in the first place," Solas fired back, smiling at the memory of Aravas running into a burning building in spite of himself.

"Aha!" Cullen shouted triumphantly as he snatched up the orange tabby. "I've found Faith."

"I've got the other three, napping on the job," Solas added as he moved a broken crate. He picked up the gray tabby and handed it to Dorian. "Here's Donnen, and I've got Isevher and Assan."

"These may be the four luckiest cats in Ferelden," Cullen added, as the men took off in a run for the secret tunnel with the final four refugees from Haven village.

**Author's Note:**

> Each of them ended up naming a kitten, and you can probably figure these out, but:  
> Varric - Donnec  
> Cassandra - Faith  
> Solas - Isevher (literally Elvish for fire/heat cat)  
> Aravas - Assan (Elvish for arrow)


End file.
